


On the Other Hand...

by Shortsandramblings



Series: Ramdom Shorts (...and Ramblings) [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4871098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsandramblings/pseuds/Shortsandramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She would rather be the wife to a Count nearly twice her age and who was said to be as sombre and harsh as his island than be attached to that monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very short one-shot, with probably a few mistakes but idead has been bugging me all week, so had to post it! Hope its ok.

 

Restless, her plan swirling in her head, she moved from her bed to the window. Her gaze drifted from the moon to the empty dark gardens below. She was sure it was past midnight, but wasn’t entirely sure on the precise hour. – _Hopefully he has finally gone to sleep_.

Taking her robe, she quickly covered her shift and went out into the corridors of Storm’s End.

 

_A few steps_.

Mother would be upset. - On the other hand, Mother had never been all that keen about Joffrey.

 

_Another step_.

It would disappoint Father. - On the other hand, Father had been foolish enough to accept the Duke of Storm’s End’s proposal without finding out more on her betrothed.

 

_Another step_.

It would anger His Grace Robert Baratheon, Duke of Storm’s End. - On the other hand, who cared? The man didn’t give any thought to anyone but himself, obsessed with the idea of a Stark-Baratheon union. In any case there _would_ be a Stark- Baratheon wedding, just not the one he wanted.

 

_Another step_.

It would enrage Joffrey. - On the other hand, Joffrey was unstable and could get angry about anything. Better just stay away from him.

 

_Another step_.

Duchess of Storm’s End... Her Grace would either feel insulted that her precious son had been snubbed or would be relieved that Joffrey wouldn’t be marrying a Stark. Either way, why would she care what Cersei thought?

 

_Another step_.

What would the ton think? - On the other hand, why should she care what the ton thought: they were a nest of vipers who knew some of Joffrey’s perversions yet had still been jealous of her ‘ _good fortune’_ when the match had been announced.

 

 

She hesitated at the door.

 

What about _him_?

Would _he_ hate her? He would most definitely resent the subterfuge, but would he hold it against her for the whole of their marriage?

On the other hand, would he really prefer that half-mad Florent woman his brother had arranged for him to marry? Not to mention that Mother had given her Father _three_ sons; surely he couldn’t be immune to _that_ knowledge.

 

As her hand held the door handle, a shiver ran down her spine: this was her last chance to change her mind.

_No_! - She would rather be the wife to a Count nearly twice her age and who was said to be as sombre and harsh as his island than be attached to that monster; no fate could be worse than Joffrey.

 

Resolute, she quietly opened the door.

 

. . . . .

 

The next morning the ton soon gossiped of the special licence had been procured when the eldest daughter of the Duke of Winterfell had been found in the Count of Dragonstone's bed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not a new chapter but needed a break from all the writing, so was inspired to do this. Hope you like.

On the other hand...

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Stannis having a very unusual morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a quite high demand, wrote a quick second chapter. Hope it’s ok/ lived up to your expectations...

 

_Hmmmm..._

 

Warmth

A pleasant floral sent.

The soft rustling of the trees and wind slowly waking outside.

 

This was his favourite part of the day.

The calm before the blunders of mortals made themselves known.

 

Sleep slowly leaving him, Stannis heard the service door open. – Massey coming to wake him.

Noise of a tray being set.

However, the next sound was not the familiar movement of the drapes being opened.

It was a yelp.

Stannis frowned, his eyes still closed.

... A _yelp_?

 

Before he could question it further, a cry was heard from the corridor.

_Gods... what has happened now_?

Maybe Cersei finding his brother with another maid?...

But then again no; the woman had too much pride to let it show how much her husband’s infidelity affected her.

Well, whoever it was, it was still too early for such agitation.

Yet the screaming persisted.

Scowling, Stannis sat up and straightened himself as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

His scowl deepened when he noticed that Massey was not ready to hand him his robe. Instead, his valet was staring at him, frozen.

Grimace deepening, Stannis tried to understand his valet’s sudden ineptitude. Massey had always been exemplary in his servitude. - Except for his maybe his constant smiles, but even those could be possibly over looked by his ready to assist Stannis in any way required.

Yet here he was, not ready, not even his usual smile, staring at his lord as if he was a ghost.

Actually...

... He was staring at the bed.

... Staring at something next to Stannis.

Brows creasing together, his eyes followed where his valet was looking-

-this time it was Stannis time to yelp, unable to stop himself, before he quickly shifted and fell out of his own bed.

 

He barely registered as more voices could be heard outside the room.

His focus was on the red hair spread out on _his_ second pillow, and the small form hidden underneath _his_ sheets.

He looked from the hidden body of his to his valet, as if Massey had some idea as to where this mystery guest come from...

Or who this mystery guest was...

Yet at the action his valet seemed to have regained some of his composure and looked away, as if it was perfectly normal for his employer to have another in his bed. – Well, it was not a valet to judge his lord’s actions.

But he was not Robert! Surely Massey couldn’t compare him to his older brother...

He had never...

He would occasionally have a mistress for a month or so... But the mistresses and the visits were rare.

And always at her apartments.

Never in his own house.

Definitely not in his brother’s home!

 

His mouth slightly agape, he continued to just stare at the form currently occupying _his_ bed, scared of moving closer to it.

During this time the noises outside grew louder, before a banging came to his door.

 

The noise seemed too finally to get a reaction from the sleeping intruder.

However before he could see who exactly was slowly shifting below the sheets, the door swung open and Robert’s burst in: “Stannis! Get dressed! We need all available men, Ned’s daught-“

Then he stopped, as his gaze passed Stannis. He gaped, his face blanching before it quickly turned to a puce colour, fury glowing in his eyes, as his gaze met Stannis’ once more.

It was possibly the fact of having known his brother all his life, or the fact that his brother was even less in sorts than Stannis, or that he had just gotten slower with age, or the fact that Stannis had possibly always been faster than Robert, or it was more than reflex when Stannis moved quickly and dodged his brother’s fist from hitting his face.

Since his brother seemed to have put all of himself into the movement, Stannis’ side-stepping meant that Robert lost his balance and fell to the floor with a loud thud.

A female cry made him look from his brother’s furious form to the most beautiful sight: an angel sitting on his bed, her red hair loosely falling past her shoulders, framing her beautiful face. Even her striking blue eyes wide in shock could not hinder her splendour.

 

Unfortunately the distraction was enough for Robert to this time successfully grab Stannis and land his fist in Stannis’ side.

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

Lip cut, left eye still swollen, jaw hurting, knuckles raw, Stannis ignored his brother growling behind him, or his soon good-father’s eyes piercing through him, or his good-mother soft cries.

No, his full attention was to only one that seemed pleased with the whole affair. His _bride_.

Still very such confused by the whole situation, his stare followed the young lady standing next to him, as she confidently repeated her vows to the priest.

The only twitch of hesitation she showed was when the priest proclaimed them husband and wife, and she turned to face him, blushing prettily.

However the moment soon disappeared as she went on her tip-toes and whispered ‘ _thank you_ ’ before giving him the softest of kisses.

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

Late that evening, Justin Massey couldn’t help but think that this day was when his master’s life truly started. – And possibly the start of longer nights for himself.

 

 


End file.
